A little Piece of Irony
by Adenil
Summary: Strange happenings on board the Enterprise cause some characters to switch bodies. Bad stuff ensues. Warning: Out of Character, characters
1. It starts

A little piece of Irony

Author's notes

To be read before you read the actual story

-Main characters are: Spock and McCoy

-Quick description:

Strange happening on board the Enterprise cause some characters to switch bodies. Bad stuff ensues.

-Rating: T for language, Hate, Possible violence, and beehives of hair.

-I do not own Star Trek TOS. Paramount does. I don't own Kirk, or Spock, or McCoy, or Rand, or anyone else. The only thing I own is the idea (Which I got from a cartoon…) and Ensign Tomalley.

(Please note: In accordance to my usual style, I don't know how the story will end. It could be funny; it could be angst, heck they could all explode. I don't know, don't expect me to. Thanks.)

---

Leonard H. McCoy sat in his office, leaning back in his chair, bored out of his ever-living mind.

He briefly wondered if anyone was going to come to the medical ward today. Even Chapel had failed to show up.

He heard a swish sound and quickly resumed his 'busy' look. He heard a soft, click, clack of boots walking along the floor.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but it definitely wasn't this.

Around the corner came Spock, his arm bleeding horribly. There was a gash nearly six inches long coming down from his right shoulder and the blood was like a geyser on Vulcan. (Where there geysers on Vulcan?) He was wearing a t-shirt, so his shirt wasn't ripped. And Spock was getting blood everywhere.

Dr. McCoy leapt up, absent-mindedly reaching for his mini-tricorder.

"Spock, what the devil happened to you?" he said, quickly running the scanner over the wound. After deciding it wasn't poisoned or anything, he pushed Spock onto the nearest hospital bed.

"I was climbing the false rocks in the Ship's Gym, when the ship had a temporary power failure, and I fell," he said, watching emotionlessly as McCoy grabbed the necessary tools to heal Spock's cut.

"Didn't you have a spotter or whatever the devil they're called?" McCoy said, running one of his various tools over the wound, successfully closing it.

"I did not believe it necessary; the ship should not have shifted." Spock watched as McCoy's face worked through the various stages of anger.

"Dammint Spock! You're damn lucky you didn't break a bone…" he paused, taking a deep breath to prepare himself, trying to figure the best campaign to use against Spock.

But he never got a chance, because at that second the ship flipped quickly to the left. The artificial gravity had no chance keeping up. McCoy was thrown into Spock, sending them both hurtling over the edge of the bed. McCoy felt his vision go fuzzy, orange, and then take on a green tint.

He sat up, wincing as he felt a shooting pain go through his arm. He glanced down and saw a thin line, crusted with green blood. With eyes wide he turned slowly and came face to face…

With himself.


	2. Chapter 3

I own NOTHING

----

The meeting had begun. Spock was still attempting to get used to the fact that he was no longer in his own body. It was a strange sensation, most fascinating. If the situation weren't so dire he would have attempted to study the phenomenon closer.

As it was however, he was just trying not to fall over when he walked. He hadn't realized until now that Dr. McCoy was so much shorter than he was which caused him to have almost no center of balance when he walked as McCoy.

The meeting consisted of all the bridge personnel, plus the other 15 that had been switched.

The ship had gone through a flux in space; anyone who had been touching another living thing directly had been changed.

The worst case yet reported had been ensign Tomalley switching places with a neighbor's dog. Spock watched with a scientist's detachment as Tomalley desperately tried to get the attention of his body, which was chasing its 'tail'.

Spock steepled his fingers as the Captain tried to get the attention of all those present. Something he found hard to do because he was now in Yeoman Rand's body, beehive and all.

"Ahem" he (she?) said several times over the din, but to no avail. Finally, Rand, in the captain's body stood up and yelled;

"SHUT UP! THE CAPTAIN IS TALKING!"

"Thank you, Yeoman," Kirk said, trying desperately to pull his skirt down just a little farther. "Before we start, I, uh, need to know who is who."

Spock listened half heartedly as the group sounded off whom they were and with whom they switched. Until finally it was his turn.

"I am Spock," he said simply. "And the good Doctor has current control over my body."

McCoy snorted, causing every one to look at him funny. "Yes, it's true. I really am Dr. McCoy, and I think it a fine piece of irony that he and I switched."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Irony doctor? It was mere chance that we were in such close proximity."

"Not really," McCoy said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "Not only did the gravity malfunction, and yes, there was a malfunction, not only did it happen at exactly the right moment. I asked the computer, and it said you came in to my office exactly six minutes and sixty six seconds before the anomaly. So if that isn't a sign I don't know what is."

Spock's other eyebrow rose, causing the Doctor's face to have an unusually calm appearance. "Really Doctor, that you-"

"That's enough." Kirk said, furrowing his brow and fidgeting in the small dress he was now wearing. "We need to get out of this and back into our proper places immediately."

"Why's that Jim? Don't we have some down time?" McCoy said, leaning forward onto the briefing table.

"No, Bones, we don't." He glanced up at the expectant faces of his coworkers (and the dog.) "Because, our bodies won't be able to handle the transformation. Scotty ran the numbers and his calculations give about four weeks to live…" He trailed off at the shocked looks of everyone but Spock, who merely lowered his (?) eyebrows to take on a somber look.

"Oh," McCoy breathed. "I see."

----

Authors note: well THAT was unexpected.


	3. Chapter 4

It had been two days and they were no closer to a solution. McCoy sat dejectedly in the mess hall, chewing on a sprig of celery. He had been unable to eat meat, mostly because Spock had told him not to. Spock did have a good reason to say so. Vulcans could digest meat, but Spock had gone so long without he would probably just end up getting sick.

McCoy was depressed. He stared at his stupid hands. Spock's hands. The stupid switch was going to get them both killed. He sighed, leaning forward to place a chin onto the palm of his hand. He really needed something to cheer him up.

Suddenly, McCoy brightened. He quickly stood up and walked to the replicator, ordering McCoy supplement 54.

He carried the covered tray back to his table as Spock walked in. McCoy waved him over and Spock nodded resolutely. He grabbed a tray from the replicator and slumped over to sit next to McCoy.

"I now realize, Doctor, why you always believed it impossible for me to survive without copious amounts of sleep." He pulled the lid off his dish, taking a bite from a lavish salad.

McCoy nodded. "And, I suppose I realize why you always found that reaction odd. I haven't been _able _to sleep these past days." He shifted the cover off his own dish and prepared to take a bite of his meal.

Spock suddenly eyed him sharply, his newly acquired blue eyes squinting. "What is that?"

McCoy looked at Spock in surprise, his reaction had been… emotional? "It's just chocolate Spock."

"You can't eat that." Spock said, snatching the lid and placing it on the dish again.

"Why not!" McCoy exclaimed, pushing Spock's hand away from the dish.

"Doctor, right now, for all intents and purposes you are a Vulcan. A Vulcan can not eat chocolate, they will become inebriated."

McCoy's eyes widened. "Really?" he said maliciously. "I did not know that, Spock." He grinned wickedly, causing Spock to raise his eyebrows once more.

"Doctor, I realize you are not a Vulcan and can not control your emotions to such a degree but could you please _stop smiling like that?_" Spock said, hissing the last. He quickly rose, abandoning his plate and stalking off through the doors of the mess hall.

McCoy watched with open amazement at the sight. He felt almost obligated to go after Spock and say something sarcastic, but he quelled the feeling and put on a somber face.

If Spock wanted an emotionless McCoy, that's what he was going to get.


	4. Chapter 5

Spock nearly dove into his room. "Computer, lock door," he said, leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor. He shivered, even though the room was hot. "Computer, heat to 65 Fahrenheit." He mumbled.

Spock crossed his legs at the ankle, placing both arms over the knee and leaning forward. He was about as close to the fetal position as he had been since before he was born.

Spock shivered again, now the stupid room was to cold. With a sudden burst of inspiration, he looked up and said. "Computer, change temperature to the average room temperature of Doctor Leonard H. McCoy's room."

The computer beeped its response and the room changed to a much more comfortable level.

Spock leaned back over, placing his head in the crook of his right arm he sighed. He was finding it much more difficult to contain his emotion than usual. He felt all remnants of any control he once had slipping away.

He groaned. "Stupid McCoy, stupid body…. STUPID space anomaly." he sighed and letting himself slide onto the floor, feeling a little better.

But he honestly felt like crying, and that just made it worse.

Spock slowly got up, rubbing his sore eyes. He crawled over to his bed and collapsed, sliding his boots off. He sighed into his stupid blocky pillow.

"Computer…" He murmured. "Lights…off"

The Computer complied and the lights turned off. Spock was honestly tired. But he found it impossible to sleep.

He groaned again. Ever since the stupid anomaly had hit he had been unable to sleep. And through his sleep deprived mind he managed to realize why.

He was unable to meditate.

He had become so dependant on meditating every night, chasing away those dark emotions that clouded his mind. And now…. McCoy was a human; he wouldn't have the physical capabilities to meditate as Spock knew he had to.

Spock decided enough was enough, so he rolled over.

And cried.


	5. Chapter 6

McCoy listened with as much emotionlessness as he could muster up. Scotty was trying to explain exactly what had happened when the switch had been made. McCoy really felt like crying at what Scotty had said, but to his surprise, his emotions stayed buried easily.

"So, you see we've done some studies, and found out that at the exact moment of the switch, conditions on the ship were perfect. When we passed through the anomaly, it merely accentuated our minds energy to a certain degree that for a moment, any thing in physical contact with us was also mentally in contact." Scotty paused to make sure every one was listening. "It was sort of like a Vulcan mind meld, but with much more dire results. We think we should be able to fix it but…"

"But what, Scotty." Kirk said, fingering his new hair. He had decided to let his hair down, but wasn't so sure that had been a good idea. He had been getting some strange looks from the men on board ship.

"The anomaly has disappeared." He said flatly. "We can't find it, or any remnants of it." He sighed, this was only going to make it worse, but he had to say it. "And even if we could find the anomaly, it wouldn't matter. Conditions on the ship were so drastically altered that we estimate another year before they are right for another switch."

McCoy watched Spocks shoulders slump a little more. Again finding it amazing that Spock was so unable to control his emotions, just because of a change in body. He sighed inside his skull, so as not to be heard, and stood.

"I must leave," he said. "If I've no chance, I have to get sick bay affairs in order."

Those clustered around the small table nodded. They to, had things to do. People to see, apologies to be made.

McCoy just nodded, and left.

He walked down the corridors of the Enterprise. It took almost no energy to do so, either. Spock was so much taller than him that it took half the time to get there.

He entered Sick bay, and his newly acute hearing heard a soft scurrying away. The sounds of Nurse Chapel trying to stay out of his sight.

But then, she had been avoiding him for all those days.

He started to arrange his hypos, and heard the swish sound of the door opening. He turned and faced a disgruntled Spock.

"Evening Spock, how can I help you?"

"I need you to give me a physical and check for this," he said, and handed McCoy a pad with a single screen brought up.

McCoy's eyes widened. "Spock, this is-"

"I know, just do it."

With eyes wide he nodded. He pulled out several of the nastier, less used tools and pushed Spock once more onto a Bed.

His instruments had never lied yet, but he was finding this reading impossible to believe. He re-did the test twice more, and checked his numbers again.

There was no change in what he saw.

"Spock," he said his eyes again wide. "I-I'm not sure if this is right, but…"

Spock nodded, "It's true than? What I expected?"

"Yes, Spock. I don't know how, but… You're pregnant."

---

Authors note: ...Muhahaha...


	6. Chapter 7

What was now Spock in a disgruntled Doctor McCoy's body lay on the Biobed trying desperately to sleep. After McCoy's' pregnancy test they had consented to run scans on everyone who had been switched.

And when those tests came back glaringly negative and they had to explain just why the test needed to be run, well...

Doctor McCoy was exceedingly embarrassed. So far no explanation could be drummed up, and everyone on the ship was giving both of them odd looks. They were even giving each other odd looks.

McCoy, of course, questioned Spock. Ugh, what a nightmare that had been. Spock rolled over and covered his head with the silverish blanket, trying to kill the thoughts he was thinking.

As if he would do anything to get him pregnant. As if he _could._

Spock gave up. He swung his significantly shorter legs over the edge of the Biobed and stood up. He shuffled silently over to McCoy's office. And, without making any noise, peered over the good Doctors shoulder.

"What can I do for you Mr. Spock?" Said the illustrious Doctor without any sign he'd heard him in the first place.

"I'd like a sedative, Doctor," Spock said, the weariness plain in his tone.

Now McCoy turned and looked at him in contained surprise. "Another sedative? I have already given you two doses above recommended." He raised an eyebrow.

Spock sighed. "I am still unable to sleep, Doctor."

"Well, I can't give you any more sedatives, it bears risk of-"

"Of what?" Spock spat, finally having enough. "Death? In case you haven't noticed, Doctor, we are both going to die. In fact, eighteen people are going to die. I'd rather die sleeping than in a mess on the floor." At the end of his outburst, Spock was positively seething. "Even if it is you who is dieing." He wavered a bit, and bit his lip.

McCoy stood up slowly, "Spock, sit down over here."

"Why?" came the venomous response.

"Just shush, sit on this couch and shut your mouth for one second." Spock sat. "There, now, talk to me."

"What?" There was no anger, just confusion.

"Okay, ah, let me explain…. For all your life you have been able to suppress your emotions, and right now I figured out why. It's your body's natural defense to everything. But, as of this moment, you can't do that. My body is incapable of that kind of thing. And as a human, the only way to feel better, is to feel way worse."

Spock didn't even bother to raise an eyebrow at the illogic of the response. Instead he sighed. "What do you want me to talk about?"

Doctor McCoy paused, "Well, how about…. That time you thought you killed Jim."

Spock twinged, "I'm not sure I-"

"Shush, just talk."

And so, with a deep breath and a little courage,

Spock began to talk.

---

Authors notes: Doctor McCoy is my hero, he alway knows what to say, and how to say it. Unless he doesn't...


	7. Chapter 8

Authors notes: Ahh, Cough Erm, Heheh, uh, ehwhoops.

Okay, so I'm writing this story right? And its, like 2 a.m. And what happens? I somehow slashed it. As in, McCoy and Spock finally realize that they are, in fact, made for each other.

Oh get over it; I'm warning you aren't I? Sorry if I ruined the story for you, honestly didn't expect this to happen. If you're disturbed by that sort of thing, get away from my story you evil person. If not, go ahead, its not like I'd write something…. Well you know. I'm fifteen, that's icky gross!

-----

Two weeks later and Scotty was no closer to a cure. In fact, he was farther away.

McCoy had gone to the daily briefings, he had written letters home, and he had apologized, cried, thanked, and on one occasion punched, everyone.

Now he got to wait for death.

He shuffled back to his sick bay, only to once again hear a small gasp and a shuffle of feet. He sighed. So he may look like Spock, but enough was enough.

"Nurse Chapel?"

"Erm, yes Doctor?" The timid reply came.

The Doctor cleared his thought, "It has come to my attention that you are avoiding me. In response I have this to say…" He cleared his thought once more, "Ahem, grow up."

"I-"

He didn't hear the end; he was already out the door. He didn't know where he was headed and was astonished when he arrived at Spock's door. After a thought, he wrung the chime.

There was a pause, a shuffle, and then, "Enter."

He keyed the lock and rushed in. "Ready Spock?"

"Huh?" Was the undignified response.

"It's the last week of our lives, let's do something…" He paused for dramatic effect, "Fun."

"Fun?" Spock rotated in his chair to stare openly at the Doctor.

"Well, you know, tie up the loose ends that maybe should have been left loose." He grinned wildly. "Excitement, ya know?"

Spock looked at him with a saddened expression. "Fun?" He repeated. "Doctor, the only thing I have every wanted to do, and couldn't, is now impossible for me to do."

There was an answer he hadn't expected. He'd actually expected something like 'fun is illogical' so the only thing his brain could come up with was, "Whys that?"

Spock gestured down at his new body. "Hello," He said in an amazing southern drawl that McCoy hadn't heard from him yet, "My name is Doctor Leonard H. McCoy."

"So?" He laughed, "If it makes you feel better, you can do whatever you want with my old body."

"No, I really can't." He stood up and let out a sigh, "Especially not what I really want to do."

Doctor McCoy was never quite at such a loss for words. And even though he felt he might regret it, he asked anyway.

"What do you really want to do?"

Spock stepped forward and placed a finger on McCoy's chest, "Well, I don't want to as much any more. Especially because I now find that emotions can be exceedingly annoying, but that's only if you let them show. Which I don't, of course. Except that one time, when…"

"Spock, you're babbling. Say it."

Spock paused, "I believe, Doctor, if I am reading my own emotions correctly, that this is what I wanted to do…"

And he kissed him.


	8. Chapter 9

Twenty minuets later both Spock and McCoy were sprinting down the hallway towards engineering.

"Honestly Spock," McCoy said evenly, "It's amazing what epiphanies you have after spilling your guts."

Spock panted and tried to run a little faster, "Tell me about it," He huffed, "I don't know why we didn't think of that before."

"What, kissing?  
"I'm talking more along the lines of the brilliant idea to get us back in our proper places." He said, picking up his pace even more.

"Well, I am brilliant," McCoy grinned. "But of course, you knew that."

"It was my idea," he said, slowing down and entering the turbolift. "So shut up. Engineering."

"Spock…" He said in exasperation, "Really, it may have been your idea, but who was the inspiration?"

"A physicist named C'hartu'kajtekjl," He said, eloquently enunciating each syllable.

"Klingon?"

"Yes," he turned as the lift doors opened and they both barreled out, rushing up to meet a surprised and haggard Scotty.

"Scotty! We figured it out!" McCoy was breathless.

Scotty widened his eyes and turned to give them his full attention, "How so lads?"

Spock cleared his thought, "You ran numerous tests on putting minds back in bodies, correct?" Scotty nodded, "And all were impractical?" Another nod from the quizzical Scotty, "Well-"

"It's brilliant! Forget minds to bodies; let's put the bodies back around the minds!" McCoy let out a laugh.

"That's…." Scotty stared at them both, "Ye gads! That could work!" Within seconds Scotty had run the numbers, called the captain and there was a go ahead with the plan. The time frame was lovely, as well. In two days they could be back to their own selves.

Or in worse straits than they had been. Scotty's figures told them that If there where any problems, there would be nothing left to bury.

Spock just shook his head, and said, "Those are better chances than burying anything." He shrugged, "And I would like to volunteer to test run, that is if Doctor McCoy is prepared." He turned and raised an eyebrow with a half of a smirk lighting up his face.

"Most defiantly!" The Doctor nodded profusely.

"I'll get my engineers on it. In two days you'll be back to your old selves." Scotty grinned, leaving words unspoken.

But it didn't matter.

There was hope.

----

Authors notes: I really like this chapter, I can totally picture those two running down the hall having casual conversation. :)


	9. Chapter 10

Authors notes: Last chapter! After this just the Epilogue, stay tuned.

---

Doctor McCoy sat hunched over in the corner of the white room. Both he and Spock wore pure white jumpsuits. He felt himself rocking back and forth and forced himself to stop again.

Seventeen hours in the treatment room and nothing had happened. Scotty had been so sure it would work, or at least that something would happen. Twice so far they had been asked if they should stop the treatment, both times they had declined.

They had been told to keep their distance by Scotty, lest the treatment be effected. So McCoy sat in one corner, Spock ramrod straight in the other.

Suddenly Spock stood. He shook his head and took a step nearer the Doctor.

McCoy hissed, "Spock, you wanna ruin the experiment? Keep your distance!"

Spock shook his head, "Obviously this exorcise is pointless." He sat down a mere centimeter away from the Doctor, "It may never work."

McCoy let out a sigh, "Some times, it's okay if things don't work." He turned to face the pale wall, "Some times all that matters is that you tried, even if you failed misera- misearab…." He felt his tounge thicken, and his vision fuzz. He turned towards Spock and as he did all the lost sleep of the past weeks caught up with him.

"Spock?" But the man was already slumping forward, his chin head hitting his chest.

And it was his chest! Doctor McCoy let out a whoop as his eyes followed the curve of one ear up to his silky black hair.

Spock stirred, "Really Doctor, relax." He lifted his head, "Re-"His eyes widened and a true grin spread across his stoic face, "Finally."

Doctor McCoy leapt up and keyed the Comm. "McCoy to Scotty!"

"D-Doctor? Is that really you?"

"You bet it is Scotty!"

There was an incomprehensible shout from the other end of the line, "It worked! Quick, get your butts out of there before it reverses!"

They wasted no time but to grin.


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue (AKA: Authors notes):

In the end the crew was restored to their normal bodies (Or whatever), Spock decided that being illogical might be okay once in a while, especially if Doctor McCoy was there with him. Ensign Tomalley regained his composure easily after slipping on the wet floor of Engineering, the dog of course running to lick his face.

The only person who couldn't really cope with the switch back was Captain Kirk himself. He often found himself trying to do up his short hair, and wondering why his legs were so dang hot. McCoy ran a few more tests, and, yes, he is still pregnant for reasons unknown. They are estimating a few more months, but the other half of said pregnancy is still unknown…

But, thank god, that's all another story.

Speaking of which… Sequel anyone?


End file.
